To Be Useful
by ShupoKawaii
Summary: He is a small boy, from a small village located in the middle of no where, and he is a small insignificant dot on a map. He will never leave this village, never go out and see the world, never help. His name is Donnel and he just wants to be of use.


_AN: So I absolutely love Donnel. The first time I played through I didn't use him because he was so hard to train but the second time I played I decided I would use him, no matter what. And let me tell you I'm glad I did. He can be such a good character if you can train him. Anyway, here's Donnel and Lissa, because the idea of a farm boy marrying a princess was just too good to pass up. Also, Donnel's way of speaking was kinda hard for me to use, being kinda hickish, so sorry in advance for his lack of speaking. I didn't proofread this one either._

* * *

His one wish is to be someone of use. Use to his mother, to his village, to the world. He could farm, and hunt, and hold a lance, but he couldn't rid the land of hunger nor could he keep his village safe. He is a small boy, from a small village located in the middle of no where, and he is a small insignificant dot on a map. He will never leave this village, never go out and see the world, never help. His name is Donnel and he just wants to be of use.

-_page break-_

There are screams coming from everywhere, emerging from beaten down houses, resonating from the smoke, sounding through the fire. Everyone is running away, away from the village, away from the bandits, away from him. He stands still, lance held tightly in his hands as a few approach him, blood smeared on their arms and clothes and face, eyes glowing in the fire. He can hear his mother screaming at him, begging him to run, to save himself. But if he can't even take down one bandit what good is he?

His lance is raised, prepared to sink into his foe, when he hears thunderous foot steps behind him and he's shoved down. He can hear some bandits cry out, can hear swords slice through clothing and axes being blocked, while a warm body holds him down, protecting him from the destruction.

The noises die out and he's helped to his feet, a pretty blonde girl smiling at him.

"Are you alright?" she asks, voice soft but concerned, staff raised if he needs it.

"'M fine."

They're approached by a few other soldiers and the villagers return slowly, unsure if the bandits were gone or just run off by stronger bandits. When its clear the strangers are helping, not hurting, a few rush to start putting out the fires.

"Thank you, sir! Who knows what they would've done had you not come along!"

"No thanks are necessary, its a Shepherd's duty."

"Shep- Prince Chrom?! Oh, thank you so much sire!"

The brand on his arm glistens slightly in the fire light and the Prince merely smiles, waving off the gifts and titles. He stares at the other, at the rest of his army, eyes wide and mouth open.

The Shepherds. They're popular in the village, tales of their heroics told between children as they do their chores. He admires them more than anything.

"Do you need help rebuilding?" their knight asks, glancing around at the charred houses and trampled gardens.

"No, we'll be fine. We couldn't ask you to do more after taking down those bandits."

"Well, we'll be on our wa-"

"Let me come with you!" he blurts out before he can stop himself.

"Donnel!" his mother gasps, surprised at his boldness in front of royalty.

"Why should we let you come?" Chrom asks, curiosity in his eyes.

_What good would this small, hick farm boy be in battle?_ is what his eyes are really asking.

"I-I-" he falters for a second, everyone's eyes on him, "I'm good with a lance an I can help make dinner an I knows a thing or two 'bout trappin' and I just wanna help sir please let me come with you!"

Chrom looks at him for a few seconds, eyes unnerving. Finally, a warm smile crosses his face and he nods.

"Very well. We could use you're help, Donnel."

Chrom, the Prince of Ylisse, and the Shephers, could use his, Donnel's, help. The pretty blonde beside him, Lissa, smiles.

_-page break-_

His fingers ache from holding onto his lance so tightly and his knees hurt from hitting the ground so much. Frederick is strict in his training, working him to bone as he drills him continuously. He appreciates the help, considering how two seconds into the last battle he was injured so badly he had to be taken back to camp, but he's sore and tired.

"Again!" Frederick commands and he lunges forward, trying to at least touch Frederick who easily blocks the attack, before swinging at his knees and making him drop again.

"Again!" Frederick calls but he can't get up, he's panting to hard and he can barely see.

"Frederick!" Lissa calls, "What are you doing?! You'll kill him!"

"We're training, milady, how else is he going to be able to hold his own in battle without you walking two steps behind if he gets even the smallest of nicks?"

Lissa ignores the knight as she kneels down beside him, feeling his face as he continues to try and get his act together.

"Help me take him to his tent," she commands, grabbing his arm and waiting for Frederick to grab the other.

The knight doesn't argue as he helps the princess bring him back, laying him gently down in his cot.

"Thank ya..." he mumbles, sinking back onto the pillow as she starts dabbing at his face with a cool towel, wiping away the sweat and dirt.

"No need to thank me, Frederick would have killed you had he continued any longer," she shook her head, a deep frown set on her face as she continued her ministrations.

He stared tiredly up at her for a moment, how her hair bounced slightly at the wind blew through the tent, at her pink lips turned down into an ugly frown.

"Smile," he mumbled.

"Huh?"

"You look mighty pretty when ya smile," he yawned, forgetting that she was a princess of Ylisse and not just some village girl.

A fierce blush spread across her face as she hastily stood up, "U-Uh... t-thank you. Go to sleep now, Donny, you need to rest up."

"Yes'm."

_-page breaks-_

They're in a battle the next day, somewhere in the woods, and he's instructed to stay towards the back, to pick off any stragglers that might get through their front lines. He's annoyed with these orders, but the annoyance is mostly directed to himself. Annoyed that he isn't strong enough to be up front and taking the full force of the hits.

He stays back with the range fighters, the mages and the archers, watching as even they get in on the action, muttering incantations or shooting arrows. Anger swells up inside his chest and he's getting ready to charge at a fighter, consequences be damned, when there's a scream to his right. He hears Chrom calls Lissa's name and he's set off after her faster then lightening, feet pounding against the ground as he thinks of some bandit running his sword the sweet princess, watching in satisfaction as she bleeds on the ground, tears glistening her cheeks.

No. He refuses to let that happen, he refuses to let any harm come to her. He rounds a corner and sees the bandit's arm raised, sword ready to strike and a trembling Lissa under him, staff raised in a defeated position.

"Lissa!" he shouts, bounding forward and striking at the bandit before he even realizes he was there.

The bandit falls, dead, and he drops to his knees.  
"You hurt?" he asks, heart pounding in his ears.

He can hear others approaching, but he won't take his eyes off her.

"I-I'm fine," there are tears coming out her eyes and she pulls him towards him, as small sobs wrack her body.

"Is she hurt?" Chrom asks, bewildered by the scene.

Had the little farm boy really taken down a bandit on his own to save his sister?

"She's fine, just shaken up. I reckon its from being ambushed by tha bandit," he answered, patting the girl's back.

"Sire, we still have more bandits to take care of. I'm sure Lady Lissa will be safe with Donnel," Frederick urgently reminds him.

Chrom stares at them for a moment longer before nodding his head, letting the knight lead them back into battle.

He stands, pulling the princess up with him. She wipes at her face, riding it of tears, smiling hollowly.

"Thanks Donny," she murmurs.

"Anytime."

"No, really, thank you. If you hadn't reacted so fast I would probably be-" she chokes on the last word, clenching her hands into her dress.

"Hey now," he shushes her, "you ain't dead and you won't be dying. Not on my watch."

She looks up at him, surprise lining her eyes, before it melts into something warm, something friendly.

"Thank you," she whispers.

They go back to the battlefield together.

_-page break-_

"Ha!" he parries the blow from Frederick, shoving the weapon off and even making the knight take a step back.

The other looks surprised for a second, before a wide smile blossoms on his face.

"Very good. You've improved greatly," Frederick praises and he blushes slightly.

Its true, he has improved. And all his improvement has stemmed from one thing; wanting to protect the princess standing on the sidelines cheering him on. Since the previous battle and her brush with death, he had taken a vow to protect her at all costs, even if it meant giving up his own life. He had buckled down in his training, practicing even after Lissa had made them call in quits for a day. He sparred frequently with Vaike and Lon'qu, testing his strength and agility. He wouldn't quit until he was able to march into a battle and strike down every foe, preventing them from approaching the little gem that he had fallen in love with.

Lissa smiled brightly as he clashed with Frederick, determination set on his face.

_-page break-_

"Why do you train so hard?" she asked him later, as the two were checking out the traps he had set up.

He was quiet as he worked the rabbit out of the snare. A few weeks ago his answer would have been an immediate, "So I can be useful." Now, his answer was more along the line of, "Because I love you and I want to protect you," and he wasn't sure he wanted to tell her that quite yet.

He settled for his default answer, "So I can be useful."

"What?" she seemed clearly confused, "But Donny... you are useful."

He snorted lightly, standing up with the catch in his hands, but refused to comment further on it.

"You are! You catch all this food and raise bilberries for the cooks and protect me when we're fighting. You help cook dinner almost every night and-" tears welled up in her eyes and she stomped her foot, "You're so stupid!"

And then she was running away from him, tears streaming down her face.

"Miss Lis- Wait!"

But she didn't.

_-page break-_

He threw himself into everything for the next week as she ignored him. He set more traps and caught more food then the camp could eat, planted more crops then he could take care of, and trained harder then his body could handle. He didn't care, anything to rid this aching in his heart. She wouldn't speak to him, wouldn't even look at him. After spending weeks together, checking on traps and helping prepare dinner and just talking, not as a princess and her subject but as _equals_, he missed her terribly. He didn't even know how to right his wrong, wasn't sure why exactly she had started crying in the woods a week ago. If he didn't know what was wrong, how could he fix it?

He focuses on his thoughts to long and isn't watching Frederick close enough, who easily throws off his weak defense stance and sends him sprawling on the ground, face hitting the ground hard.

"Is something troubling you Donnel? I haven't been able to take you down this quickly since you first started traveling with us."

He doesn't make a move to get up, not wanting the knight to see the tears on his face that aren't a result of the stinging in his cheek.

"Frederick, Donnel."

They both glance up as Chrom approaches them, a stern look on his face.

"Milord."

He slowly gets up, dusting his clothes off as Chrom directs his question at him.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your training, but might I have a word with you?"

"Course," he wouldn't dare refuse his request.

Frederick tips his head to both of them, leaving to attend to other matters with camp. Chrom waits for a few seconds, until Frederick is out of earshot, before beginning.

"Have you talked to Lissa lately?"

Her name is enough to raise his heartbeat and he shakes his head slowly, wiping his palms on his pants.

"I've noticed she's been incredibly sad lately, enough so that she can't even hide it anymore. And I've also noticed that you two haven't been spending as much time together. May I intrude and ask what happened?"

He glances up at Chrom who in that moment isn't the prince of Ylisse, but merely an older brother, worried about the well being of his younger sister.

"M' not sure. Reckon she's mad at me cause I said I wasn't useful," he thinks back to that day, remembering the sun beating down on his shoulders and birds chirping and the angry look on Lissa's face despite the tears.

Chrom is silent for a moment, staring around the training grounds before turning towards him.

"I think when people see Lissa, they see a happy, smiling princess who is willing to heal even the slightest of wound so as to help cure the other of even the smallest of pain. I think sometimes they forget, _she_ forgets, that she's also just a person, born with a title who lives up to her name and lets herself care far to much about others. She cares so much that when it comes to her, her feelings and her pain and her life, that she isn't sure how to deal with it. She needs someone beside her, besides her brother, to show her that its okay to cry selfishly once in a while, to share her burdens with others."

He has to look away from the prince, because the pain in his eyes at describing his sister is too much.

"Lissa is fragile, not because she's a girl, but because for so long she's been told how to act and look and feel. So, I ask you to forgive her and try and right this situation. I've seen how miserable she's been, not being around you; I've seen how miserable you've been to."

He glances up surprisingly at Chrom, who smiles slightly at him.

"She's in the medical tent right now, you should get that scratch cleaned."

There's a still moment between them, where he thanks Chrom silently, before he turns and scurries away.

"Also, Donnel, the cook asked me to ask you to stop planting so many bilberry bushes."

_-page break-_

When he was little and still content with the idea of marrying a village girl, he had the notion that his proposal would be small and simple, a mere giving of the ring and the question, "Wanna get hitched?" She would laugh and nod, and there would be an equally small wedding, with the whole village gathered for it, dressed in their meager finest. The priest would go through the ceremony rather quickly, they would seal the marriage with a kiss, and the crowd would cheer. There would be an equally small after party and then the two would settle into married life, raising a few kids and teaching them the in's-and-out's of farming.

Now, that village girl has been replaced with an image of Lissa, the princess of Ylisse, and the wedding he had always imaged seemed ill fitting for her. Them being together seemed ill fitting; she deserved a huge wedding, attended by only royals and a prince as the groom. She deserved much more then he could give her. The ring adorning her finger should be gold and beautiful, gems glittering in the band, not the simple silver ring hiding in his pocket.

But he was selfish. He wanted to wake up beside her every morning, keep her safe on the battlefield, kiss away the tears, hold her in his arms every night. He wanted to raise a child with her, wanted to raise a family with her. So with shaky hands, he pushed open the flaps of the tent to be greeted with the sight of Lissa bending over a wounded Stahl, his leg bleeding.

"You have to be careful. It won't get infected, but there will probably be a scar when it heals over. I know you want to protect Cordelia, but getting yourself killed in the process isn't okay."

Stahl merely laughed, as she finished tying off the bandage. She smiled slightly at him, but he wondered if Stahl was able to tell that it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Okay, you should be all set."

"Thanks Lissa. Oh, hello Donnel."

Her entire being stiffens as he exchanges greetings with Stahl, before its just the two of them. He sees her take a deep breath before turning to face him, her face schooled into a stoic expression before melting into concern.

"You're cheek is bleeding."

He reached a hand up to touch his cheek and his fingers came back red.

"Well... come sit over here and let me take care of it."

He did as he was told, sitting down on the little cot as she got out her medical supplies. She deliberately avoided making eye contact, eyes trained on her fingers as his stayed fixated on her eyes. He could see the pinkness of her cheeks, could feel her fingers shake slightly as they cleaned the dirt out of the scratch.

"Miss Li-"

"You really should be more careful. You know Frederick won't stop until you're laying on the ground in you're own blood. Honestly, he's too harsh and-"

"Miss-"

"-but he's a good man. He's been protecting us for a long time. Whoever his wife is will be a lucky lady; he'll shower her with his affection. Probably to the point of being suffocating really-"

"Lissa!"

He grabs her fingers and abruptly cuts her off, her eyes going wide at the lack of title he always uses and the feeling of his hand holding hers. There's a small pause as he continues to just stare up at her, taking in her absolute beauty as she tries her hardest to not look at him. He reaches into his pocket and takes out the ring, holding it for a second longer before dropping it into his hand.

She looks at it curiously, turning it over in her fingers and smiling at it softly.

"What is this?" she asks, glancing at him for just a moment before inspecting the ring again.

"I was hopin' you would do me the honor of becoming my wife."

She gasps loudly, mouth falling open and eyes going impossibly wide. He thinks its a cute look on her. And then she's crying again, horrible sobs wracking her body before she's throwing herself at him.

"Yes yes yes! I-I-" she can't talk through her tears and he holds her, relishing in the feeling of her warmth against him.

_-page break-_

The wedding is a gathering of the Shepherds and he feels guilty that it isn't enough for her. But she looks absolutely radiant in her wedding dress, smile large and bright, never once fading, and he supposes his never does either. Chrom looks ultimately pleased with himself and he remembers to thank him.

He doesn't remember feeling so happy in all his life, so loved, so wanted. She fills the one want he's had since he could remember; to be useful. She needs him, she'll always need him. To help protect her, to help protect those closest to her, to help protect the child they will one day have.

Above all else, he has to protect that smile that she first gave him, the one that still does funny things to his stomach, the smile he fell in love with.


End file.
